Your Subtleties, They Strangle Me
by Bellatrix-Breezy
Summary: It was then he realized that she was getting a great thrill from this. From being pinned roughly against the wall, his nails digging into her porcelain skin. F/S.


**Title:** Your Subtleties, They Strangle Me.

**Pairings/Characters:** Finn/Santana, mentions of dark Santana/Puck.

**Rating:** M, for graphic sexual content.

**Word count: **2,701

**Warnings: **Language, Mentions of rape, extremely out of character characters…

**Summary: **It was then he realized that she was getting a great thrill from this. From being pinned roughly against the wall, his nails digging into her porcelain skin. Her eyes narrowed with seduction, and he felt a twitch in his groin as she shifted beneath his grip.

**A/N:** Taking a break from Trapped, because this has been sitting in my documents for forever, and I wanted to post it so I can stop beating myself up about it. I know, I know, I made them really out of character. But in a way, I kind of wanted them to be. This is more dark than I should have made it, but I wanted Santana to seem more like the victim than the villain. & I wanted Finn to be the badass. I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy. But… they're my guilty pleasure & I couldn't help but tweak it. Enjoy! :)

...

He'd made a silent promise to himself that he'd pay no attention to the rain thumping outside his cabin; the rain that never seemed to end. He fell to his knees, the carpet fibers burning into the skin of his palms as he stared angrily at the wine colored floor.

Why the hell, do they all have to lie?

He could try to remember the last time someone had told him the complete truth, but it would be a useless task.

He convulsed into a depression further than anyone could acknowledge and the sound of his shallow breathing was the only thing keeping him company. Thunder erupted outside and he mentally cursed it.

Go the _fuck_ away, stupid rain.

He couldn't remember how he ended up here; his brain was too fogged up from the horrible results of tonight's party. How stupid he must have been to actually show up to some ridiculous, stereotypical teenage party. Oh, and, surprise surprise! It ended stereotypically, too!

He stood up angrily and paced around before relentlessly balling his fists and punching the wall beside him. He couldn't even hear himself think over the sound of the pouring rain beating down hard on the tin roof over his head, and he has yet to decide whether or not that's a bad thing.

His knuckles started to bleed from the fierce contact, but he completely ignored the pain.

Before another thought crossed his mind, he was interrupted by the screen door flapping open and a familiar, yet terrified, confused and upset face greeting him.

"Finn?" A soft voice cracked, it sounded barely above a whisper, and Finn had to blink a few times to realize what she'd said. His name.

"Over here." The words fell out of his mouth in a low grunt and she made her way over to him.

"We've been looking _everywhere_ for you," She said even softer, if that was possible.

"Well, you found me." He spat, and the coldness in his voice almost made her shiver, if not the cold summer rain she'd just come out of.

"Why did you leave?" She asked innocently, her eyes sparkling with terror from her own memories of the night.

His eyes pierced into her, narrowing and letting her know he didn't want to talk about it.

She backed away, and both of them fell silent.

It was then, that he noticed something. Those water stains on her cheeks weren't from the rain she'd just encountered, and the strap of her dress was torn and falling down her arm. She noticed his realization and quickly scrambled to pull the limp strap back onto her shoulder.

"Santana," He said sternly, "What happened to your dress?" His eyes never left the limp purple cloth she was trying desperately to hide.

"Nothing…"

"Bullshit." He said without missing a beat.

She inhaled sharply, "I… it was an accident. Puck, he…"

"Puck?" The name alone made Finn want to beat the shit out of anything that breathes.

Santana tearfully glanced out the window pane, where she was met with nothing but streaming tears that matched her own. She wanted to say it, but knew her voice would crack and fall so much that she didn't want to sound like a geek.

"Santana." Finn grunted. "What happened?"

After what seemed like forever, Santana found it fitting to finally reply. "He was being really nice, ya know?" She shrugged, "And I thought he just wanted to hang out. I didn't…" She trailed off and bit her lip as the memories cascaded around in her mind.

Anger boiled inside Finn; he couldn't believe what he was hearing!

Sweet, beautiful Santana. How could someone try to hurt her like that?

"I ran out before he had the chance." She finally answered his unasked question.

His face fell; then he remembered his own situation and fell back into anger. "We both had shitty nights."

Santana remained silent, through fear she'd burst into tears.

Something overcame Finn, and he reached out for a grip onto her wrist. He clung to it like his life depended on it. Santana squealed softly at the contact, and she looked up at Finn with confused eyes.

"Lie to me," He spat angrily.

She blinked a couple of times and chased his eyes, unsure of what he meant. He intensified his grip on her wrist, no doubt bruising it. She winced from the pain, "Finn, you're scaring me. Let go."

He grimaced, and pushed her up against the wall. Her back hit the pale white wall with a thud, and her breath hitched.

His face came in contact with hers, as he was just inches away. Through gritted teeth, he spoke in a low tone, "They all lie to me. You're the same way."

Confused tears replaced Santana's sad ones.

"Lie to me, and tell me that you don't love me." His words shocked her, but the contusions forming on her wrist were enough to distract her.

"I mean it," He spat angrily, "Lie to me."

"I c-can't." She finally poured out, shaking beneath his strict grasp. "I can't lie."

"Please!" He yelled sharply, startling her.

He pushed his body against hers, and all her nerves seemed to explode with fusion.

He panted roughly, "Tell me… tell me you don't love it whenever I'm around you. Tell me you don't love hearing me say your name. Tell me you don't follow my every move wishing I'd be in love with you."

Santana softly shook her head. Her eyes fell shut, and she whispered, "I don't, Finn, I hate you."

"What?" He leaned in closer.

Her eyes opened and he was met with shiny wet brown pools. He noticed something in them; lust.

It was then he realized that she was getting a great thrill from this. From being pinned roughly against this wall, his nails digging into her porcelain skin, rupturing every blood vessel in that area. Her eyes narrowed with seduction, and he felt a twitch in his groin as she shifted beneath his grip to lean her hips further into his.

"I hate you," She repeated. "I _hate_ the way you're ego is the size of my house. I hate the way you _think_ everyone loves you, and most of all, I hate the way you _think _you intimidate me."

Her emphasis astounded him, and he was almost taken aback.

He released his intense grip and rested his hands on the wall on either side of her. Her palms reached up to cup his face, and she peered into his deep chocolate eyes for answers. "What's wrong with you, Finn? This isn't you."

"Of course it is," He spat quickly, "I have to fucking please everyone."

She bit her lip sensuously; oh, the irony. "You don't have to make me happy. Maybe I'm the only one, but I'm still here. What's out there, the fake people and their stupid decisions, they aren't real." She took his hand and moved it to her chest. "Me… I'm real."

He spread out his fingers along the silky skin of her chest, and slowly lowered his hand to her waist where he bunched up his fists in the silk of the purple dress he wanted so desperately to be off of her.

But then, he noticed the sparkle of pain in her eye.

What she's just gone through would put someone else in a spiraling whirlwind of emotions so strong that the normal teenage girl's mind couldn't comprehend it, and they'd collapse into an inconsolable state.

"Why do you do that?" He grumbled stiffly.

"Do what?"

"Make everything better."

The corners of her mouth tugged upwards, but she resisted. "I need to go."

"No," He said instantly, moving his hands back down to her waist. Her eyes chased his curiously, and she gulped nervously as his eyes turned to seductive slits. She could see he had one intention, and he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted.

What scared her, however, is that she wanted it, too.

"Finn," she whimpered his name into his ear shortly after his mouth connected to the skin of her collar bone. She felt a warm sensation crawl through the pit of her stomach when Finn leaned into her, crushing her between his body and the wall. Oddly enough, she sought pleasure from it, and a light whimper escaped her throat.

He smirked into her skin and slid his hands past her hips and to her thighs, where he began pushing the silky material higher until it bunched up at her waist. It honestly did not surprise him that Santana didn't wear underwear – she never has.

Santana always saw underwear as an obstacle. She hasn't worn underwear since that time in the janitor's closet with the Driver's Ed teacher, when they only had three minutes before class ended. Let's just say, time was a big factor and the panties she was wearing just took up way too much of it.

Santana was losing all control. She fell paralyzed under his touch, and soon, it felt like it wasn't her anymore. She wasn't used to this. She was _always _in control.

His hot breath against her ear as he traced his fingers along the side of her face was enough to _almost _drive her to her breaking point. But Finn wasn't gonna have that yet. No, he wasn't gonna let all his frustration take its toll on her yet. That's not the way he played his cards.

After he shook off the jean jacket he was wearing, Santana's small, nimble fingers found their way to the hem of his McKinley football tee, and lifted it up over his shoulders.

Her eyes scanned over his perfectly toned body, and she gulped nervously as he discarded her dress and tossed it somewhere in the distance of the dark room.

Finn cocked his head at the laced bra that was obstructing his way to fully having her. When she caught his confused stare, she breathed, "What is it?"

He paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, then said, "I never could figure out how to get those things off,"

Santana let out a childish giggle and reached behind her to unclasp it herself. She brushed the straps off her shoulders and it fell aimlessly to the ground. "See? All better."

He smirked and muttered what sounded like a 'thank-you' before pressing his lips hungrily to hers.

"Finn," His name fell from her lips when he tightly wrapped his arms around her waist and slid her up further on the wall, her legs tightly enclosing his waist. Her eyes closed with ecstasy, not wanting to see anything but the fireworks exploding on the insides of her eyelids.

Through plainly attentive ears, she heard the sound of Finn's belt unhooking. She let out a deep breath and let her head fall back against the wall. Her head was next to a small bathroom-style window, where she could hear the sound of the raindrops pummeling the concrete.

"Fuck," He hissed as he slipped into her. Santana's head raised as she bit her lip and gripped a clump of his hair. He wondered why she was so tight. I mean, this is Santana Lopez we're talking about. Ignoring his thoughts, he let out a sharp breath as he felt her walls enclose him, and he put his hand on the wall beside her head for support.

Santana's throat closed as she felt his length sink deeper inside her. As his speed quickened, he dropped his head and bit down on her shoulder. She bit the corner of her mouth as a response to the slight pain and let out a small whimper. Finn found this as a challenge. He wanted to hear more, and he refused to stop until she couldn't feel her vocal chords anymore.

Her head sank back as he pushed in deeper, one arm wrapped tightly around her small frame, the other still pressed firmly against the wall.

Santana's legs grew weak and she let out another chilling whimper. Finn smirked against her skin as she dug her sharp fingernails into his back, no doubt drawing blood. The noises falling from her mouth had become louder, turning into almost screams.

Finn watched in his own ecstasy as Santana's face twisted into pleasure, his every thrust pulsing into her, traveling to her every nerve, igniting flames right down to her fingertips.

He sped up, eliciting sharp moans from her. Every noise in the entire room had become irrelevant – the rain, the clock – they didn't exist.

The only sound that could be heard was skin slapping skin at a fast pace, and the chilling moans and grunts it was causing.

"Tell me you don't love me," was the first thing to be said. Finn muttered it gruffly into her ear as his pace slowed down, making Santana sigh with disappointment. She fell silent, trying to catch her breath before she swallowed hard and stared blankly at his eyes. "I don't love you." she said honestly. Because she didn't. She loved the idea of him, she loved being with him, and she loved him fucking her unmercifully against this wall, but she didn't love _him._

"God," she groaned, "Just fuck me."

Say it nicely, Santana.

"Please," she muttered under her breath, eyes falling shut. Finn's speed quickened again, his hands resting on her hips, supporting her weight.

"Oh, God." He grunted, dipping his head down to bury it in the crook of her neck. He could tell he was almost to his breaking point.

Santana sensed this too, and she used it against him. She lifted his head and cupped his face in her hands, biting her lip as she stared into his eyes. Her entire body shook as she felt a gush of warmness surge into her, and her name escaped his lips.

"Fuck," she mumbled as she came shortly after he did.

He pulled out of her and she leaned her back against the wall, breathless.

Finn was hesitant to say anything. Did that really just happen?

All Santana did was smirk. Her plan succeeded. She made this clear as she located her dress in the darkness and pulled it over her head, flattening it as it laid tight against her slender form.

As Finn buttoned his pants, he looked peculiarly at her, noticing her strange smile. "What?" He finally asked.

Santana shrugged as she ran a hand through her damp hair and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Nothing," she smiled slyly, "I just knew I'd win."

"Win what?"

"Figuratively speaking, of course," _Ick_, she thought, _spending way too much time with Berry. Starting to pick up vocabulary._ The short Latina smirked and captiously walked over to Finn, whose face was completely confused. His eyes moved down to look at her – he towered over her – but his head remained in place.

She lifted a hand to rest on his shoulder. As her index finger traced circles on his collar bone, she smirked childishly, "Isn't it amazing, Finn? How someone can put on an act and completely fool another person?"

She laughed at his solemn expression, and placed a graceless kiss on his neck. "I wonder what Berry's gonna say when she finds out about _this_ time."

Finn's back restlessly hit the wall as he watched the sneakiest bitch he'd ever met strut out of the cabin in those damn four inch stilettos.

He dragged his hand down his face and exhaled through his nose in annoyance.

He spent the next hour or so lying on the useless mattress in the corner of the small room, thinking about things and inadvertently regretting what happened. He'd managed to screw up another relationship, and somehow he felt that nothing was wrong with that. It'd grown to the point where he just didn't care.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz._

The sound of his phone vibrated on the floor beside the mattress and he groaned as he stiffly removed it from its place and flipped it open.

**1 NEW TXT MSG:**

**July 9****th**** 2:08 AM**

**From: **_Santana Lopez_

_It's your lucky night babe. I've got the cabin all to myself. Be here in 10. ;)_

Finn smirked.

...

**A/N: **I DO NOT LIKE THIS. That is all.

Leave your thoughts?


End file.
